Gryphon and His Thief (4 page)

"Look at me," he told her. "Open your mind
and try."

"Uh… Well," she cleared her throat and for a
moment her eyes seemed to drink him in like a woman who had
thirsted for a long time. "You're good looking and all… a bit
intense, but if circumstances were different, I might have asked
you out for a coffee." She nodded as her gaze slid from his face
and lower then back up again. He had the urge to cover himself from
her smoldering assessment.

"You undress me with your eyes," he told her,
not sure if he should be offended or flattered at her wanton
gaze.

Her chuckle rendered his pondering mute.
"Wasn't I supposed to be the love of your life?" she asked. "I'm
assuming we were intimate then." Her gaze slid over him again with
meaning.

His brows lifted. "You do mock me still."

She rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself.
Let's pretend I believe your little story here. So, we were
star-crossed lovers in some past life, but this is the here and now
and I have a life, a good one, and I don't see
flying
monkeys
joining the mix."

"Flying monkeys?" He understood her words,
but the meaning to them seemed to have been lost.

"You don't watch much TV locked up in the
museum, do you?" She pushed away from the nightstand and strode to
the door. She opened it and turned toward him expectantly. "This is
your cue to go."

She thought to dismiss him this readily? He
flitted like the wind to her, slamming the door shut, and backing
her up against it. His gaze met her eyes that flashed with a mix of
excitement and fear. "We are not finished." He stepped closer to
her, making it difficult for her to move around him.

"Step away," she warned with her hand to his
chest, but she didn't push him away.

The heaven above, she was all soft curves
and… she had a lethal left hook.

"Ouch!" He grabbed her arms and pinned them
above her head.
Big mistake.
The woman moved faster than a
panther and proved just as deadly. She slammed her head into his.
He blinked and focused. "Stop it this instant, I say." This won him
a swift kick to his shin.

Playing nice was over. Still holding her
hands above her head and using his thighs to keep her from kicking
him again, lest he find his nether parts bruised. He hadn't missed
her intent. If she'd had more room to maneuver, he had no doubt she
would have hit her mark already.

The stars above, how could she infuriate him
and entice him at the same time. Her sweet scent filled him, made
him want so much more. Even in this dire situation, he couldn't
help wanting her. He'd waited for her for centuries and she was in
his arms. Maybe not in the way he would prefer, but being cursed,
he couldn't be fickle when opportunity presented itself.

She stilled her movements and her breathing
changed. For a breath of time, he didn't understand the meaning in
her gaze until her tongue slipped out and licked her lips,
moistening them. How could he resist such an invitation? He leaned
down and kissed her, taking her under as he caressed those luscious
lips into submission, but in the end, it was she who demanded
obedience.

Minx
, he thought, but his affection
never waivered. She may not want to admit it yet, but she felt the
connection and he didn't refer to the bolt of electricity they
sparked when they first touched outside. No, she responded to his
touch. Her soul hungered for him as his did for her.

Now if he could just make her cooperate, he
might be able to save
his
Callista before the beastie inside
of him took over and made its stand. Above all, it must protect the
items it guarded. Already he could feel the Gryphon threatening to
take over, but he slammed down the urge to shift. The beastie would
not ruin this precious moment.

Chapter Five

What was wrong with her? This guy wasn't even
human. He could shift into a Gryphon for God's sake. Calli's
subconscious kept prattling on, trying to get her attention.
Annoying! Right now Darrien was every bit the man.

Her hands gripped Darrien's shirt and drew
him closer, and his hand went to her waist. She could feel the
warmth of his touch through her shirt, and his eyes… Those all so
strange colored eyes gazed upon her as if he would give her the
world, but right now she wanted one of his toe-curling kisses. She
didn't have a long list of lovers, but none of them had ever kissed
her like he had. His lips were like a caress her body craved,
breathing life where she had remained dormant.

She could almost believe he spoke the truth
that she was indeed his soul mate. His mouth covered hers and she
closed her eyes, and on a sigh gave into the pleasure he offered.
Her heart thumped so loud, she could hear the
thumpity-thump
in her ears, drowning out the world around her and, for a moment,
she didn't fight it.

Her hand slid down the length of him as she
contemplated her next move. He may have removed her weapons and
tools, but perhaps he hadn't cleared out the nightstand drawer.
There was one way to find out.

She nudged him toward the bed and inwardly
sighed with regret at not being able to indulge in this fantasy
they'd started. She had a hunch kissing wasn't all Darrien could do
well.

Once they were backed up to the bed, she
pushed him onto it and straddled him. She slid her hands over his
arms, guiding them above his head, before leaning down to kiss him
once more. A ploy meant to distract and if his moan of pleasure was
an indication, it was working. With one hand, she carefully slid
open the drawer of the nightstand and reached inside. When her
fingers touched cool metal, she almost smiled and probably would
have if her lips hadn't been occupied. In the next second, she made
her move. Her agile fingers manipulated the cool metal with a click
to his right wrist and a click to the bedpost with the other
half.

Darrien's eyes widened in alarm as he glanced
at the cuffs then to her. But before he could grab her with his
free hand, she leapt from the bed and out of reach. He yanked on
the cuffs and to her relief they held fast.

"It's been fun big guy, but party time is
over, and just so you know, I don't like playing second fiddle." He
frowned at her analogy and she shook her head. "You speak the
language. Hell, you might even fit in to society, but you think
like an ancient being, don't you? In that regard, I could almost
believe your claims you've been cursed for centuries, but let me
put it to you simply. I'm not Callista, and I don't like to play
dress up and pretend." She sauntered over to the table where
Darrien had tossed her gear while she'd been unconscious.

"This isn't about me being a shifter then, am
I right?" he asked, and there was a note of surprise in his voice.
"That part does not trouble you. Yes?"

She glanced at him sprawled on the bed with
his one arm cuffed and the other propping him up so he could peer
at her. "My father used to tell me stories about beings that walked
among the humans. Said he met a few."

"He did not fear these beings?" Darrien asked
and she could tell he was curious.

"No." she shrugged. "Everyone wants to be
respected, right? They left my father alone and he gave them the
same courtesy."

"You say the words about respect, but these
are your father's beliefs. What of you?"

"The world is full of different kinds of
beings and so what? I never met any of the beings my father told me
about, but it doesn't mean they weren't around. I have an open
mind."

"I sense this about you," he told her.

She rolled her eyes.
Of course he did.
Right after he thought she was his soul mate,
she said to
herself, but aloud she voiced, "Anyway, the existence of shifters
doesn't come as a complete shock to me. Heck, my cousin claimed he
dated a werewolf, but up until tonight, I thought maybe he had a
few screws loose, or at the very least was just making the story up
for a few laughs. Go figure, he probably told me the truth."

He harrumphed. "You listened to your father's
stories, but you didn't truly believe, did you?" He repositioned
himself by scooting back to rest against the headboard, which
sported slats or he wouldn't be sitting like an offering for sinful
delights. Pity she had to run.

She turned away because meeting his gaze just
made all this so much more difficult. "Really, I'd like to sit down
with you and have a deep discussion about shifters and other such
beings, but I have to go." She didn't quite keep the terseness out
of her voice. She couldn't let her guard down and she had a feeling
he was trying his best to distract her. She fastened her belt
around her waist with quick jerky moves, indicating her frustration
over this whole messed up situation. Her goal tonight: retrieve the
stone.
Done.
Everything else was irrelevant.

"You cannot take the artifact." His voice
broke through her reverie and she paused. "It is dangerous," he
said, not pleading or demanding. He simply spoke what he believed
to be true.

Her gaze met his, curious over his calm
approach. She thought he'd be breaking the headboard by now...or
turning into the beast. Maybe there wasn't enough room for him to
shift. "I've already taken it," she reminded him. "I just need to
deliver it to the rightful owner."

His harsh laugh irked her.

"Do you have something to say?" she asked
with her hand on her hip.

"I do not know who claims this ownership of
something only the gods should have, but if it falls into the wrong
hands, it will be the end of mankind."

"Plu…eeese," she said, dragging out the word
for effect. "Do you expect me to really consider your claims of
doom?"

"Consider this, Callista… Calli," he
corrected, "you stole the stone from the Museum of Cursed
Antiquities. Can you not consider the possibility that an unsavory
sort wants the stone for their own personal evil deeds?"

"Okay, you piqued my interest. What can the
stone do?" He hadn't explained exactly what it did. He'd only given
her his doom and gloom speech.

"The one who possesses it will have the power
to open the portal between life and death, and if the person
performs the ritual on Halloween, it gives the conjurer more power
to bring back many souls all at once."

"Because the veil is thinner this time of the
year," she stated, familiar with the folklore surrounding
Halloween. She'd been reading books about life after death, and not
because her father had recently passed away. The subject had always
fascinated her.

Professor Leander had told her she wanted the
stone delivered to her before Halloween. She'd been adamant about
the date. Had there been a more sinister reason behind it? She
claimed if the stone was not returned by the morning of October
31st the institute funding the dig was going to close down the
excavation site and call it a loss. They'd lose millions of
dollars. That was the urgency to have the artifact delivered. The
other… "Who in their right mind would want to raise the dead?" she
asked.

"How well do you know this person who wants
the stone?" he countered with a question of his own.

She really didn't know her client at all.
She'd been hired, paid half the amount she requested and she would
be wired the remaining balance owed to her upon delivering it.
She'd needed this job. Funds were low and she hadn't taken an
assignment since her father died. Not because she hadn't been
approached by clients, but because she missed her dad. They'd been
a team and she found it difficult to work without him.

In the past, her father had always found the
cases for them. They were hired to retrieve items originally stolen
from their rightful owners. They were paid a finder's fee, and in
return they would steal the items back and deliver them to where
they belonged.

Professor Leander came from money, high
society and all, and she'd shown Calli documents that claimed she
was responsible for the stone at the dig site. Maybe it had been
stolen, but it didn't mean the item wasn't as dangerous as Darrien
claimed. "I'll tell you what," she told him, "I'll look deeper into
all this, check out a few leads, and if what you say is true, I'll
return the artifact to the museum."

His eyes were doing that weird glowing
thing-y
again. "You'll look into it?" His control seemed to
be slipping. "This person who hired you will not allow you to
look into it
. If they know about the stone, they will stop
at nothing to get it before the veil thins. You are in danger if
you keep it. They will come after you."

"Oh, that's rich." She chuckled. "You mean
she's worse than a Gryphon? She's a respected professor, for God's
sake."

"She is a professor?"

"Stop fishing for information," she snapped,
more upset with herself than with him. She'd already revealed too
much. She leaned down and ran her hand under the table, feeling for
the duct tape. When her fingers grazed over it, she gave it a
yank.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Never you mind," she told him as she pulled
the gun free. She only kept a weapon on her for emergencies and
this definitely qualified. To think she almost hadn't packed it for
this assignment. The semi-auto was the Ruger LCP
Revolver—lightweight, large enough to fit in her palm, but powerful
enough to hold its own. This baby held five rounds. The perfect
weapon for tight situations, just point and shoot.

She knew it was loaded, but she checked it
anyway. Her gaze then found Darrien. His eyes were focused on her
weapon and not her. "As you can see, I can take care of
myself."

He shifted his gaze. "Are you going to shoot
me?"

"Not if you don't come after me," she told
him and unzipped the side pocket on her pants. She tucked the
revolver inside and left it unzipped for easy access. "Now, I have
to skedaddle. I have places to be, people to check out… So, ta-ta
for now." She wiggled her fingers at him in a goodbye wave before
heading for the door without even a backward glance.